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The heavily armored chaos terminator lord looked out upon his mercenary force from the bridge of The Excruciator, a crusade era ship, heavily modified from its years in the warp. Pride swelled within him and a dark, twisted grin came over the scarred features of Kharon, ferryman of souls to the gods of chaos, these ignorant imperials were going to make him rich! The planetary lord of Markus IV was paying him two billion credits for every day he could stall the advancing tyranid bio-fleet so they could get more transport off planet to try to evacuate the remaining citizens.

In the bowels of The Excruciator Üngek exalted champion of the 2nd cortie, and master of deception walked towards the plasma reactor, the spot the message he had received had designated. He was the leader of the Dune Lords, who specialized in camouflage and ambush tactics. Assembled there waiting were his lord, Kharon, and the champion of the 3rd cortie, Kudra. Kudra and his battle brothers were virulent plague marines who had devoted their souls to Nurgle; there bloated armor was all that was left of them, their bodies having been destroyed by malignant, festering diseases centuries ago. Drawn from his thoughts by the electric tingle of chaos that resonated from his lord he stood at attention.

“Üngek, you shall be honored with the first landfall, you and your brothers will teleport in and secure a perimeter for our drop pods to land, myself and Kudra shall follow in the drop pods.” So spoke his lord Kharon, and so it was done.

With an intense glow of purple light a hulking rhino teleported on to the surface of Markus IV, and within seconds it was gone, its camo-boosters kicking in. Unseen to the naked eye 10 warriors disembarked form the vehicle.

“Secure the perimeter! Kill for the gods! Kill the xenos filth!” screamed the vox-enhanced voice of Üngek in all his brothers helmets.

A clawed xenos beast jumped forward but was ripped to pieces by a chainsword, chunks of flesh and pink, vile blood arcing into their painstakingly embossed armor. Üngek had been sure to put the marines who leaned towards Khorne at the fore-front of this assault.

“Genestealer.” muttered the beast’s slayer in disgust.

One of the accursed beasts latched on to the un-seen rhino by sheer coincidence, but within seconds it was torn apart by a brutal blast of the rhino’s havoc launcher at point blank range. A warrior had fallen with deep claw marks in his blessed ceramite armor, but the wound was not fatal, his miraculous astares healing powers already working. At least 20 of the creatures had already fallen, and the remaining few were retreating, hissing, and acidic venom was dripping from their open jaws. Üngek took pride in the fact that not one of his warriors had died under this deadly assault.

Lord Kharon’s earpiece clicked,

“It’s ready.” He heard Üngek say, and then a garbled cry. “Probably just daemonic interference,” he thought.

“Have they stimms ready in time,” Kharon said as he left Fabius Bile’s workroom.

“Oh, they will be. Just keep they slaves coming. I have many new ideas, and they require experimentation.” Bile replied, and that was fallowed by a cry of utter agony from his current “experiment”.

Üngek let out a bellow as the genestealer leapt out from beneath the rhino. Its claws dug deep into his shoulder braces, it bit into his neck, a geyser of blood spewing from the wound. Üngek turned, cleaving the creature from shoulder to groin, but it was too late, blue veins already throbbed on his forehead.

“My genesead has been contaminated, my body, my holy sanctuary has been violated. This is sacrilege! I beg that one of my brothers take my life, so I don’t have to cowardly take my own!” cried Üngek in anguish. A warrior brother lifted his bolt pistol.

“Rejoice, because you are now one with chaos.” solemnly said his brother. The bolt pistol kicked in his hand, and Üngek’s head exploded in a red burst. “His soul shall fly free now, no longer trapped by his mortal husk.” The rest of the brothers took out their holy katana daggers and in mourning cut the eight-pointed star of chaos into their foreheads’.

Super-heated air shrieked as the dread claw drop pod fell to the surface of Markus IV, the lord Kharon and his Bone Crusher terminator brethren were prepared for battle. The combat stimms of Fabius Bile were coursing through their blood, giving them monstrous strength. Around him 14 other drop pods fell like a hammer of death upon the invading tyrandis. The daemon bound within the pod began to unleash the fury of the dread claw’s heavy bolters on the masses below. As it hit the ground the doors flew open, clamping to the earth beneath them. Thundering footsteps reverberated through the pod as Kharon’s escort stepped out into the blinding light of the Markus System’s twin suns.

“Ave Dominus Nox!” shouted the great warlord as he stepped from the chaos drop pod. “Death to the false emperor!

A Defiler stepped out of a heavily modified drop pod, its vox caster spewing words of fiery hatred. It saw a dark form on the horizon, an enemy hive tyrant psychically controlling the invasion force, with out it the tyranids would be languid, and easily killed. The daemon bound within the infernal machine roared in bloodlust as the servos on its mechanical legs whirred, propelling the defiler towards the enemy leader.

Kudra ripped his blade from the enemy broodlord, the slender blade crackling with enemy. The advancing genestealer brood burst out in green pox, oozing blood and puss.

“This is a gift from grandfather Nurgle! The gods of the æther are with us! With me brothers!” shouted the pious champion. Next to him a melta-gun loosed its deadly ammo, the torrent of burning energy instantly killing a tyranid carnifex.

The shots of the hormaguants did nothing to stop the advance of Kharon and his terminator brethren. Depressing the trigger of his combi-bolter, Kharon moved forward on top of the flayed husk of the recently downed enemy, swinging his daemon axe he roared in tribute to the dark gods. He heard a victory cry in the distance and smiled; to his brothers the battlefield was their sanctuary, and the enjoyed worship!

The defiler roared, reveling in the glory of chaos as it killed the enemy hive tyrant, but as spore pods crashed all around him more of the foul leaders were birthed.

A peppering of shots hit Kharon head-on; as one pierced his heavy armor he gritted his teeth. Tapping his earpiece he called for them to move-out, jumping into an awaiting landraider he shouted at the servitor to disembark. He pulled himself out of the hatch on the roof of the landraider he took three carefully aimed shots with his combi-bolter and watched as the high caliber shots exploded in the chest of a lichtor. His earpiece buzzed in his ear, telling him that the stormbirds would be there in four minutes; he ordered a thunderhawk to fit him and his bodyguards’ immense terminator armor and thought to himself that he would have just enough time to collect his colossal pay.

“Mr. Johannes, the renegade astares are here,” said the sweet voice of his secretary, Veronica. He found her voice soothing before a stressful and potentially bankrupting meeting. “Send them in.”

Kharon walked into the office of the spineless planetary lord. Smashing a gauntleted fist down on his desk, smashing it in half with titanic force,

“You imperial worms owe me twenty billion credits!”

“Ah yes, they have been transferred to the account you indicated,” the planetary lord forced out, despite his monumental fear. In person the traitor astares were at least twelve feet tall! “It has been a, er, honor, yes honor working with warriors of you… caliber.” he said, very pleased with his words.

Passionate hate for the imperials burned in Kharon as the planetary lord babbled on. He had served his purpose, and now his fate was sealed.

“Mr. Johannes! Mr. Johannes? Called the secretary, Veronica later that day. The planetary lord was turned around in his chair, facing away from her, and he didn’t respond to her calls. The secretary shrieked as she rounded the chair and saw the bloody whole Kharon’s bolt pistol had left in his forehead.

The Imperial fleet unleashed extermanatus upon Markus IV, the nuclear warheads falling from the sky like a guillotine, instantly destroying the planet and killing the three billion guardsmen stationed there along with the eighteen billion imperial citizens that had not secured off world transport in time.

Kharon watched the destruction of Markus IV from the bridge of The Excruciator. He smiled darkly, thinking of the untold wonders he could buy for twenty billion credits.
 

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Discussion Starter #2
This is my first time writing fluff, so all constructive critisism is appreciated!:)
 

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I was wondering through the entire piece why a Chaos band would agree to help a planet stave off a Tyranids invasion, with the exterminatus being a nice surprise at the end.

I'm not really up on what credits provide on a legion scale, nor what a Chaos band would do with them... I always picture them just going in and taking what they need/want through destruction, as opposed to trading/purchasing.
 

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I do like the premise of it. 2 things strike me though.


1. Why would a chaos lord want credits? Its not like there's too many places he could spend it. However, the promise of tanks, vehicles, maybe a tithe of their armed forces into servitude. What I'm trying to say is weapons and material over monetary reward.

2. If the planet had 3 billion stationed guardsmen at the time of exterminatus, why would they barter with traitors? Its potentially bankrupting, there consorting with traitors, if they had their defences wrecked or non existant, or corrupted by Genestealer cults, as it is they have more than enough troops to mount a formidable defence.

All in all. A great read though.
 
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